


The Rule in Shelley's Case

by ETraytin



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen, Law School, Minor Alternate Background, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETraytin/pseuds/ETraytin
Summary: Josh and Sam and the convoluted agony of becoming real lawyers. Thank goodness they have a fallback plan.





	The Rule in Shelley's Case

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quickie today! I got very cocky yesterday on Tumblr and issued a "Never Have I Ever" challenge to my readers, telling them to give me a scenario or a trope or whatever and I would tell them if I have used it. I went further, though, by saying that if I hadn't, I would write it. This is the first of those challenge responses, for "Josh and Sam, law school." Canonically, of course, Josh and Sam did not attend law school together, but since when has that meant anything in fanfic? (Also, if you want to follow me on Tumblr, I'm Etraytin there as well.) Send me feedback! 
> 
> One other thing, this was written originally in Microsoft Word, which I have not used in many years thanks to OpenOffice. I picked it up for free on my new computer and it is shiiiiiiiiiit. I blame all formatting errors squarely on that. Sorry!

Josh’s head, which had been perched precariously on the heel of his hand for nearly five minutes now, fell forward to land with an audible thud onto the pages of his Property Law textbook. Sam, who’d been watching the slow descent from the corner of his eye, winced sympathetically. They’d already had to clear out of the library when it closed at one, holing up instead in the empty cafeteria with the truly abysmal coffee dispensed next to the Coke machine. “You awake?” 

The groan from Josh reassured Sam he was at least semi-conscious. That was good enough. “Tenancy by the entirety not doing it for you?” 

“When I die,” Josh muttered, “which should be very soon now, I plan to do so completely intestate just to make as much of a hassle as possible for anyone who has to deal with my estate. And I’m sure as hell never getting married.” 

“Come on,” Sam wheedled, capping his highlighter, “you could always explore joint tenancy with right of survivorship, that’s very hot these days.” He turned a few pages, then shut his book. “Come on, we’ve got seventeen hours till the test still. Let’s call it a night.” 

Josh shook his head, scrubbing at his eyes, then his hair. “No, I’ve still got to read the whole section on severability, I have no idea what’s going on there and Klein doesn’t put up with nearly so much bullshit on tests as in class. I gotta get this done.” 

When Sam had met Josh at the beginning of 1L, he’d realized immediately that Josh was determined to be the smartest guy in the room. It had taken becoming his roommate and studying with him for six months to realize how hard Josh worked to maintain that effortlessly arrogant façade. It was working, pretty much everybody they knew though Josh was destined for Great Things, but privately Sam worried Josh was setting himself up for a heart attack before he was thirty. He was a guy who needed more balance in his life. 

With that in mind, Sam stood up and closed Josh’s book for him. Josh yelped indignantly but was too exhausted to do more than that, which meant he was pretty far gone. “Seventeen hours,” he said again. “We’re going to have a beer, maybe two, we’re going to see if there are any women to hit on who don’t know the first thing about property law, and then we’re going to get some sleep.”

Josh made a show of whining all the way out the door, but he was compliant enough underneath it all. Sometimes, Sam thought, Josh just wanted somebody to take charge of him and make him do the things that were good for him. Sometimes Sam liked being that guy. Tonight they secured their books in Sam’s car, then headed out on foot to the closest bar to campus, comfortably crowded and loud and smoky. 

They managed to snag a table near the bar, and rapid service from a coed waitress whose smile at them was absolutely predatory. “God, I didn’t realize how thirsty I was,” Josh commented after nearly draining his first glass. “Did we eat supper tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Sam assured him, “you’re thirsty because you ate something like an entire bag of pretzel twists while you were arguing with Chris Wick about adverse possession.” He was pretty thirsty himself, come to think of it. 

“Oh, right.” Josh wandered back to the bar with his glass, looking a little confused. One beer magically turned into four, and seventeen hours quickly became fifteen and a half. Sam wasn’t sure how that had happened, but he was okay with it. Their waitress had gone off shift and seemed pretty disappointed about it, but he’d made sure to give her a good tip so she was well compensated for her hard work. She’d given him her phone number, which he was just starting to not find surprising anymore. Women were mysterious creatures.

“We should’ve gone to a piano bar,” Josh commented blearily as he finished some unknown-number beer. “I can play the piano; did you know that?”

“I did not know that,” Sam replied affably, “but next time we can definitely go to a piano bar. Do you know any Sondheim?” 

“No, I don’t play that musical theater shit,” Josh scoffed. “Classical piano, the good stuff. Next you’ll be asking for Surrey With A Fringe on Top and Seventy-Six Trombones.” 

“Neither of which are by Sondheim,” Sam pointed out. “Where did you learn to play classical piano?”

“None of your business,” Josh grouched, then slumped over. “My sister wanted to learn, so my folks bought a piano. Then I learned instead.”

“Did she get tired of it?” Sam guessed.

“She died,” Josh said shortly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam replied awkwardly. “I didn’t know. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Gee, you’re all heart,” Josh groused.

“I was in musical theater,” Sam told him, hoping to change the subject, but a little too drunk himself to do much steering. “Not Sondheim there though, either. Nobody appreciates Sondheim enough. But I was in the Gilbert and Sullivan society. Now there’s some good musical theater.” 

This had Josh looking up with bleary interest. “Can you do the major general song?”

“Of course I can,” Sam replied, affronted at the thought he might not be able to. “Every line.” 

“Heh, of course you can,” Josh echoed. He nudged Sam with his shoulder. “So do it.” 

“What?” Sam looked around as though he expected a traveling production of Pirates of Penzance to pop up.

“Do it!” Josh insisted, a bit louder. “Sing the song!”

“All right then, I will!” Sam decided, suddenly brave. He hopped up onto the edge of the bar so his calf brushed Josh’s knee. With a deep breath (breath support was extremely important for this song), he launched into the song at full volume, drawing both laughter and stares. He managed to get all the way through the song before they got bounced for the evening, which Sam counted as a tremendous win. 

“They just don’t understand good theater.” 

“Screw ‘em!” Josh declared with a breezy wave. “Their beers were terrible anyway. I can’t even feel my feet.” He was leaning heavily on Sam, one arm nearly around his waist as Sam supported his shoulders. “I like it when you sing. How many hours?” 

“I forget,” Sam admitted, more warmed than he wanted to admit by Josh’s drunken praise. “We’ve still got time. We need to get some sleep.” 

“Gonna be hung over tomorrow,” Josh muttered. “Gonna suck.” That was Josh-speak for “Please make sure I drink water before bed.” Sam had heard that one before. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sam promised breezily. “And if not, we’ve always got show biz to fall back on.”


End file.
